


Fallout: The Glades

by SophiaRose



Series: Fallout: The Glades [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaRose/pseuds/SophiaRose
Summary: The Fallout universe in Florida. Original characters and original storyline.
Series: Fallout: The Glades [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758901





	1. New Friends and New Opportunities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Copper, Clover, and Anning take an unusual job offer from a stranger to the Speedway.

“If I don’t have this fucking car in the next five minutes, I swear to god, Clover, I will burn this place to the ground with that diseased brother-fucker in it!”

Clover, to her credit, ignored what he said and tried to offer him a paint job. Something about flames being all the rage this 500.

I rolled my eyes and shared a look with Anning. The Miss. Nanny bot swiveled one eye over to me but didn’t halt her progress tightening the lugs on the wheel.

“Should I tell him I don’t have any brothers or would that just make things worse?” I kept my voice low so he couldn’t hear us from the garage.

“I wouldn’t,” she giggled.

Just as we finished the last tire, the door to the front slammed open, hitting the wall next to it so hard a wrench fell off its hook. The racer- his name lost to me since customer service was Clover’s job- was red in the face and ready to start screaming again. I backed off the car and leaned against the wall. Anning opened the garage door.

Spitting and cursing to himself about ‘degenerate, plague-bleeding Swampers’ and ‘inbred mutant fuckers’ he circled his car to inspect it. When he didn’t find anything to complain about, he kicked a tire and winced.

I managed to suppress a smirk. I had sewn those treads together myself and had the callouses to prove it. However the next race would end- those tires wouldn’t be the cause. The engine on the other hand…

He lifted up the hood and Clover wavered behind him.

“Danny, look, these new cores…”

“It’s perfect. I can run this baby at half the cost now...” He thought for a moment. “But if I could find a way to recharge them on my own instead of going through the Daytons…”

I winced. That wouldn’t end well. Even  _ if  _ he succeeded. The Daytons were one of the richest families in the Speedway and didn’t take kindly to people trying to cut costs on their turf. Didn’t matter that they had more money than they knew what to do with when half the outskirts only managed one meal a day.

Slamming the hood, he jumped in the driver’s seat and shoved the keys in the ignition. He revved and grinned at the guttural sound of the engine. Before he drove off, he turned back to Clover with a disgusted look on his face.

“Get some decent fucking mechanics, Clover. No one wants to do business with  _ their _ kind,” he told her, head jerking at me.

He peeled out and left us coughing in the fumes.

“Should I tell him I own the station or…?” I wondered through a rag.

Anning laughed and closed the garage again.

“Please tell me he’s paid up?” I asked Clover as we headed back to the front. The counter was facing the door and the empty register answered my question for me. I sighed.

“He didn’t have the caps yet, but he said if he places in the prelim tomorrow he’ll give us a bonus.”

I gave her a look but didn’t say anything.

“What do you want from me, Copper? If they have the money, they go to the Speedway. If they don’t, they go to the outskirts. And when the outskirt’s mechanics won’t take their bullshit,  _ then _ they come to us.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

She sat behind the counter and threw her feet up next to the register, stretching and yawning. “I know, I know… But money would be nice sometimes…” Closing her eyes, she flipped on the radio and settled in.

“We’ve got clean water, food, a roof, and the outskirts don’t pay tithes to the races, Clover. We’re doing alright.”

She mumbled in vague agreement as I rounded the corner to my room. While I was washing the grease from my hands, the bell at the front door jingled. 

_ I hope Danny hasn’t already blown up that fucking car. _ I thought to myself. _ I worked all week on it. _

Other than a low, feminine voice and up tick in pitch when Clover put on her saleswoman persona, there was no screaming so I couldn’t hear what was said. My stomach rumbled and I debated climbing out my window to avoid the front and potentially scaring away a customer. As I threw a clean tank top on, Clover stuck her head in and waved me out. I raised my eyebrows, but she looked enthusiastic.

Hesitantly, I exited my room to see a young Unconquered woman standing at the counter, about our age at mid twenties. Her dark hair was pulled into a neat bun, her dress was clean, and she had a lethal looking sniper rifle strapped to her back. To say she would have stood out in the Speedway- let alone the outskirts- was an understatement.

“Thank you, Ms. Zhou,” she nodded her head at Clover, “My name is Beverly Ward,” she said, offering me her hand- I was thankful I had washed up when I had the chance. “I was directed to your shop by the locals Ms…?”

She had the voice and face of one of those old world movie stars, low and smokey when she spoke, and features pretty enough to make you look twice. Next to Clover’s short, spiky hair sticking out at odd angles, and sort of pleasingly lopsided smile, and my scarred and what was optimistically called ‘harsh’ looks, we seemed almost feral next to her.

Dark eyes regarded me under long lashes.

“Uh, Copper. Just Copper.”

“Ms… Copper, as I said, I was directed to your shop by the locals. I need to visit a building in the outskirts, and the people of the Speedway were unwilling to guide me there. I don’t expect charity,” she added quickly, reaching for a heavy purse on her hip.

“Ms. Ward, I think there’s been some miscommunication,” I began, holding my hands up to stop her. “I’m not a guard, I’m a mechanic and a scrapper. I don’t keep people alive, if anything, I actively participate in their deaths-.”

“I- uh- she just means the races, obviously,” Clover interrupted as the woman raised her brows, her damage control measures kicking in. “Our work actually keeps the cars going much longer.”

“Actually,” Anning piped up, coming in from outside, “our Rechargeable Fusion Core Fuel Modification results in vehicle detonation 50% of the time after just two charges,” she said cheerily.

“We’re not libel for that!” Clover choked. “Third party product complaints need to be directed to the manufacturers!”

“Our installation results in death 10% less than the nearest competitors,” Anning added, whirring placidly.

“Yeah, they’re junk.” I shrugged.

“I... will keep that in mind.” She looked a little taken aback by the turn in conversation, but gathered herself and continued. “But what I need is a guide. Someone who knows the area. Someone used to getting in and out of prewar buildings like Halifax Hospital.”

“Ms. Ward, with all do respect,” I eyed the weapon on her back, “that rifle implies at least a few connections in Clan Dragon, and, frankly, you would do far better with them. I am not a guard, guide, or anything close to them.”

She stiffened at the mention of Dragon, her chin pointing in reflex. “I am not Clan Dragon,” she said, a bit defensively. “And regardless, this is not an Unconquered settlement. We have no presence here, and there are no members of Clan Dragon to ask. Besides, I am Clan Siren, and my business here involves saving the life of a child in dire straits. Is that sufficient enough reason, beyond payment, to convince you to help?”

Her voice hadn’t raised, but her eyes went steely. Clan Siren, healers of the Unconquered… This wasn’t my place, this wasn’t my fight, and the last thing I wanted was to get involved with someone’s life on the line, but if there was one Clan I owed… I sighed, but before I could answer, Anning shot an eye at her.

“Halifax Hospital, you said? If you require guidance, I accept the offer. I only ask that while we are there, I am allowed to access their library databases.” She stuck out her clawed arm in the gesture of a handshake.

She looked surprised and made to say something, thought better of it, and took the offered limb, shaking it gently. Before I could protest, Clover hopped off the desk she had been sitting on and stuck out her hand as well.

“Me too,” she said, a wide smile on her face. “I don’t give a shit about books, though, I just want to get paid.” She looked back at me while shaking her hand, not a hint of apology in her eye. “Sorry, Copper, but momma’s putting caps on the cars one way or another.”

My temple started throbbing. It looked like they had won this round.

“Alright fine, seems I’ve been outvoted. Meet me on the roof in a minute and we’ll talk details. Clover, get out some Nuka, would ya? Ms. Ward.” I nodded at her and returned to my room before my vision started swimming.

Black and white pinpricks dotted my vision in the seconds it took to find my bed. Pawing through my drawers, I found the little bone and scrimshaw case just as the pain began creeping to the back of my skull. Hands shaking, I ignored the blackened oak on the cover, its roots reaching as far as its dark branches, and flipped the latch. One needle rested against a bed of red fabric.

_ Fuck. _

I took a deep breath to steady myself and found the vein in the crook of my arm past my Pipboy and slowly pushed down the plunger. Relief flooded my body and I sat back against the wall, muscles releasing tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. I watched my pupils dilate in the mirror across from me, idly rubbing the scars across the lower, buzzed portion of my hair. The designs stood out against the dark brown, fingers tracing the head of the Phoenix just behind my temple.

_ Dammit, thought I had a couple more left… _

I closed the case, thumb running over the carving. For a second, that haunting oak tree held my gaze. My mind turned to memories I didn’t want to dwell on, hunting, and surviving, and family… I shook my head to clear it. The Med-x always made my thoughts wander. Throwing on a jacket, I pocketed the little case and slowly made my way outside.

The walkway to the roof looked a bit haphazard, even for Clover’s standards, and I made a mental note to go back over her patchwork job when I had a moment. Easing myself into a lawn chair amongst the planters, I was immediately assaulted by a gecko changing colors so quickly he looked grey.

“Hello, Dip,” I chuckled, rubbing his head.

He panted in response, mouth open in what always looked like a goofy smile filled with razor sharp teeth and a deep purple tongue. Thick tail pounding the ground in excitement, I pulled him onto my lap and settled him down until he calmed enough to camouflage himself to my pants and chair. Clover handed me a drink.

“My database has first aid and some basic medical information,” Anning explained, idly pruning some of my silt beans. “But to have access to an entire medical library from before the war? How could I possibly pass up the opportunity?”

“Uh, yes, I can see the appeal.” Ms. Ward seemed unused to speaking in such a way with a robot, but I appreciated the fact she wasn’t ignoring Anning like most people did. Like she was an overly mobile piece of furniture. “I would be interested in purchasing a holotape with the knowledge downloaded, if that would be agreeable…”

“Oh, I would  _ never _ charge someone for knowledge!” Anning spun in place, arms moving but her body keeping forward. A habit she had picked up when she was excited. “I have plenty of blank tapes lying around, and I would be more than happy to burn you an extra copy, Ms. Ward.” She paused, thinking. “Well, that is, of course, if the library is intact. I suppose we are putting our cart before the brahmin, as it were.”

“You know, I might have a few textbooks at home you would be interested in.” She smiled, the Miss. Nanny intriguing her- just a little. “I’ll send a message and see if I can have a few copies mailed to the Speedway for you. Another medical professional in the Glades certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, I very much agree!”

“So, uh, Ms. Ward,” I cleared my throat, straightening up a bit. “What business do you have at the Halifax Hospital, exactly, and what, specifically, do you need our help with?”

It took a second for her to turn back to me, and I used the opportunity to grab a bite of mutfruit.

“I… have a patient. Back in Cap City. A little boy that just turned seven.” Her full brows pulled together. “He has a condition I have not seen before, and have had no real success in treating. While attempting to find a cure, I ran across a terminal entry in the ruins of a hospital describing a prewar man with identical symptoms. The correspondence mentioned his transfer to Halifax and his recovery, but no details were given.” She gave a heavy sigh and folded her hands in her lap. “If I can find records there of the treatments, I’m hoping I can recreate them…” It was quiet for a moment. “This is his last chance…,” she all but whispered.

“Welp, at least it’s close.” Clover fell into a chair beside me, munching on those disgusting prewar cakes she loved so much. “But you should know, that place has been picked clean and left to rot and fester. Completely overrun with ferals, too.”

“I understand.” She pursed her lips. “I had hoped to persuade you with the scrap you might find there, but you will still have your payment, of course. What are the chances the terminals are still intact?”

“Not great,” I admitted. “But if they had a relay, Anning and I will be able to get you what you need.” I held up my arm to show her the Pipboy. Dip’s head nuzzled my hand. “Hopefully. So, that’s all you need? Some prewar records?”

“Yes. New medicines and previously unearthed research are always welcome, but my only goal is the treatment entry.”

“Sounds good. But I need bullets.” Clover scratched her head, thinking. “Also, if we’re pulling a ‘bait ‘n switch’, we’re gonna need a bait.”

“I’ll leave that up to you. I think we could all do with a supply run in town,” I said, thinking of the empty case in my pocket. “Let’s finish lunch and head out.”

“I have a stipend for that.” She fished out a bag of caps and offered them up.

“Clover, you can take that.” I finished my drink and stood, Dip looking morose at his lack of a warm seat despite the cloying heat of the noon sun in the Glades. “Stay here and guard the station,” I told him, rubbing his head. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

As we piled down the walkway, Clover bounding down, bag of money in hand, her footsteps shook the slipshod panels, and Ms. Ward nearly lost her balance. I snatched her from the edge, eyes wide in surprise.

“I- thank you!” she breathed. “I thought I was going to…” She trailed off as she focused on my eyes, her own taking on the sharp, analytical stare of a doctor for the first time in my presence. She said nothing, looking away after an intense moment and continuing her way down the steps.

Confused, I followed after but didn't mention the strange behavior. Back on solid ground, she waited patiently for Clover to get our jon boat in the water. The Red Rocket station was up just high enough to avoid the water line, our own little island right off the main drag. She slipped the metal bucket down the lower ramp and offered her hand to Ms. Ward. Throwing in a few empty planters, I pushed off and jumped in, Clover steering us under the upper ramp of the racetrack with the pole.

"Drop me off when we get to Rachel's," I told her. She steered expertly under the highways, avoiding the underwater debris while keeping us in the shade of the raised track. Noon in the Glades was brutal, but then again, so was everything else. "I'll meet you back in the Speedway. Cockpit for dinner? My treat…"

"Oh, fuck yeah, I don't turn down free food."

"Clover, you wouldn't turn down a free radscorpion."

"You're not wrong. Free's free."

I jumped out at the rundown general store about a mile from the Speedway, taking my planters with me. I waved them off, Clover barely looking over her shoulder to return the gesture. Ms. Ward raised her hand, that same intense look on her face as before…

Wondering what I did, I snaked through the ruins to the edge of the outskirts, where the last of the meager civilization dared to live. Like our Red Rocket, the small, ramshackle hut that I headed for was the last line before humans were replaced by ferals and god knows what else. It was a dangerous place to be, but Swampers rarely had other options in cities.

“Afternoon, Fern, how’s your leg doin’?”

The old woman sitting on the porch turned to smile at me, eyes unseeing.

“Be a damn sight better if it wasn’t for the storm coming,” she said, chin nodding to the crystal clear sky.

I knew better than to argue and got to work setting up the planters along the side of her shack. “I don’t know how you can sit in the sun like that,” I told her. “I’d look like a damn Tato after an hour.”

She laughed, her dark skin crinkling around her eyes. “Oh, it don’t bother me. Spend most of my time in the sun. Built up a tolerance for it.” The scars on her scalp gleamed as she nodded to herself, the scene of a hunt standing out against the dark, tight curls.

I planted a few different seeds so she’d have a bit of variety and screwed a couple holes through her water line against the shack so they’d get fed whenever she used her well. Standing up, I wiped the dirt off on my pants and reminded her to throw in whatever scraps she had left after a meal.

“You’re too good to me, Copper. I don’t know what these old bones would do without you taking care of me.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Don’t think for one second that old lady act fools me. If the Speedway was overrun I know for a fact you’d be the only one left.”

She chuckled to herself and nodded. “Suppose it helps that I feed the ghouls out there. Those city folks don’t realize that the all that racket they make only draws ‘em in. They might be feral but that don’t mean they bite the hand that feeds. Well,” she amended, “long as you do it right.”

“They only see them as animals,” I agreed, taking a hard look over the ruins Fern’s shack faced. I knew they slept during the day but I swore I saw movement in an apartment window.

“Mmm…” She rocked back and forth in her chair, the corner of her mouth pulling down. “They didn’t live like we did,” she said after a moment. “Didn’t grow up with their ancestors telling them stories of the old world by the fire, or being saved by the ones who turned feral in the swamps… They don’t realize they’re still in there…”

My heart ached at the memories her words conjured up. Mama asking great-great-great grandma about a recipe for the gathering. Aunt Summer talking real slow when she remembered the war. Pop taking me out to meet his grandpa for the first time, how I could swear I saw recognition in his eyes when he touched my face.

I swallowed them down and shook my head.

“They’re dangerous,” Fern said, words coming slowly to her as she stared, unseeing, across the ruined city. “Without their kin to keep them… but they’re not monsters, they’re not animals…”

“No,” I said softly. “No, they aren’t.”

She pulled herself from heavy thoughts after a time, and dug around in the pockets of her dress. Handing me a pack of Med-x, she smiled sadly. “It’s good talking to you, Copper. Thank you for indulging an old woman.”

I tried to hand her a bag of caps for the chems, but she wouldn’t take them, pushing the syringes into my palms and closing her fingers over mine. Smooth, gleaming hands rubbed my own.

“Now, don’t you try to pity me, young woman. You know your money’s no good here.” She smiled brightly up at me, grasping my cheek. “You do enough for me already, and I’ll hear if you try to hide it in my damn house again!”

I shook my head with a sigh, pocketing the caps and chems. “There’s no one left in this city who will take my money. At least let me know if I can do anything for you, Fern. I know the locals deal with you about as willingly as they deal with me…”

“Oh, don’t you worry about little ‘ole me. I get by just fine.” She let go and waved me off. “The first preliminary race for the 500 tomorrow night. You get to work now and make a name for yourself.”

I promised her I would and started making my way through the outskirts to the Speedway. Doors slammed shut as I passed, faces sneering as soon as they recognized the scars on my scalp.

Whatever... disagreements… I had with my people, I never understood the hatred the Swamper’s incited in the other people of the Glades. The Unconquered, like Ms. Ward, were the most tolerant, but they were also the only outsiders who had any contact with them. Fern and I, Swampers who had left our families, were few and far between. The two of us were the only ones in all the Speedway and I felt like we were down right polite- especially compared to our more isolated kin.

A man leaning against his ramshackle house spit as I walked by.

Whatever their reasons, I didn’t take it to heart. Figured I’d have an easier time proving my worth through my hands rather than my words.

_ God, I hope Danny does well tomorrow… _

Clover, Anning, and Ms. Ward were waiting for me at the entrance to the Speedway, boat off to the side near the shore as others passed them through the raised gates.

“How’d you manage?” I asked, jumping in.

Clover pushed off the bank and expertly steered us into the inbound traffic. “Not bad, got what I needed and showed Ms. Ward where I get our meds.”

She held up the leather messenger bag at her side, significantly fuller than when I last saw her. “That was, by far, the least amount of caps for the number of supplies I purchased.”

“We’ll probably need the extra for the baiter,” I told her.

The guard standing on the scaffolding above the tunnel glared down at us. Me, specifically.

“Hasan!” Clover schmoozed. “Good to see you on the Wall, ‘bout time you got that promotion!”

He rolled his eyes to her and jerked his head to let us through, only a twitch of his mouth at me as we glided beneath.

“You’re my man!” Clover shouted back at him.

The tunnel into the Speedway proper was lit with flickering fluorescent lamps hanging from the low ceiling, guiding the boats in and out. At the end of the tunnel, light flowing in blinded the outside world until you were already in the stadium. Children hooked boats and pulled them to the banks as soon as they were out, minimizing damage to the aquatic gardens further into the central lake. They fought over the biggest boats, careful not to scratch the finishes on the richer client’s vehicles.

“How do they keep aquatic predators out?” Ms. Ward asked as we floated, unimpeded, farther into the lake.

“Chain nets under the water,” Anning explained. “And they can pull down the metal grate along the outer wall for larger threats.”

A skinny boy with a missing front tooth pulled us to the shore, offering his hand to Ms. Ward as the rest of us jumped out with practiced grace. Clover handed him a few coins as he dragged our boat to his portion of the lakeside, a dozen other boats beside ours, watched like hawks by a fierce little girl with a crowbar. She was no more than four, but I would have thought twice before crossing her.

“I’ll double that and throw in a meal from the Cockpit if all our shit’s still there when we get back,” Clover haggled.

Their hungry eyes lit up at the name of a restaurant and they nodded furiously.

“Don’t fuck me over, Owen, I know how to count.”

The boy stood up straight and his sister changed positions to sit in our boat, eyes flinty and looking out for threats. “Yes, Miss. Clover,” they sang in unison.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.”

We followed the paths through the fenced in crops. Trees, bushes, vines… anything and everything that would grow in the shit soil of the Speedway. I noted the brown leaves and withered fruit as we walked by, thinking they would do better with floating planters when the inevitable super hurricanes blew through and flooded the interior. Ms. Ward noticed the poor harvest herself.

“It’s the saltwater,” I said, nodding at a dead corn stalk. “When the Speedway floods, it kills off most of the planted crops and soaks into the soil for later rotations. Farmers don’t have the caps to make the necessary changes and the rich in the city only care about the races as long as they can still get their imported caviar.”

“That is… disheartening.”

At the start of the stands we split off into different directions, Anning and Clover heading around the edge for the Drag district where the sponsored cars were worked on exclusively. I gestured to the stairs up.

“After you.”

Ms. Ward climbed into the upper stands, weaving between the buildings fixed into tiers along the walls, sometimes right on top of each other, until only sky was above us. The sun began to set as I led us down the walkway, taking in the sight of the distant coast as the path rose up over the original structure.

“It’s beautiful,” Ms. Ward said, looking past the hotel ruins to the sea beyond, the coral cliffs just visible in the distance. “In Cap City, you can watch the sunset over the ocean. It’s breathtaking.”

“I was scrapping some cars near the beach a few months ago,” I said after a quiet moment. “I didn’t realize how long I’d been out and caught the sunrise. Watched it from the hood of a semi until the ‘lurks that chased me up there got bored.”

A laugh escaped her lips and I caught myself smiling with her. She had dimples.

We made it to the Cockpit and I led us to my favorite outdoor table with the most intact umbrella. Our line of sight revealed the only view of the big screen from the Cockpit. I gave Ms. Ward the best seat so she could watch the cars broadcasted from the track.

“They’re just training today,” I said, handing her the menu. “But you can watch the sponsored drivers run laps around everyone else.”

“Sponsored?”

“Uh, drivers whose needs are taken care of by the rich in the city,” I struggled to explain. “Most drivers are all on their own, scraping together their cars on their own caps. The best drivers draw the attention of the wealthy in the Speedway who will pay for all their expenses in order to have the most control over a winning car.”

The waitress was making her way over so I slid my cap purse across the table. Ms. Ward looked at me in confusion.

“I… They won’t speak to me, would you mind ordering?”

Her brows pulled together for a moment, quickly replaced by somber understanding.

“Ah, I see…”

I gave her our orders which she relayed as the waitress came around. She was sweet and bubbly to Ms. Ward and utterly ignored me. I was used to it. The waitress skipped back to the kitchen without a single glance in my direction.

“I… have not met many…,” she struggled to find the right words. “People… like you. I was unaware you were so ostracized.”

I shrugged. “Swampers are… insular to say the least. And the rumors spread about them are rooted in truth, if a misunderstood truth.”

She mulled over my words as the drinks were brought around. Light flashed from the big screen accompanied by sounds of an explosion. She jumped and spun around to look. I didn’t have to to know what happened.

“Rechargeable Fusion Core Mod. Thing’s garbage.”

She turned to me in shock. “Is… is anyone going to help them?”

“They’re already dead. Core usually takes out a block when it goes. Cleanup crews will head out once the racers come in for the night. With a good dose of Rad-x if their employers care enough to keep them alive.” I shook my head with an impotent sigh. They never listened.

“Oh my, god…”

The cheers from below shook her more than the crash.

“They bet whenever cars are on the track,” I explained. “It’s more money on the line for prelims, and an ungodly amount when the 500 comes around, but caps are caps, and there’s not much to make in the Speedway.”

“That’s horrific…”

“It gets worse on race days. That was an accident. In the prelim tomorrow, it won’t be.”

“GUESS! WHAT! I! GOT!”

Clover came crashing around the corner, screaming as she threw herself into a seat. Anning followed shortly behind her, taking her place beside me with far less fanfare. A hunk of gleaming metal slammed into the table.

I picked up the heavy piece, turning it in my hands and examining the speakers wrapping around the sides. It looked like I could throw it from the nosebleeds and the cement would be in worse shape from the impact.

“Clover… how?”

She smacked her hands on the table, wide-eyed and frenzied.

“I was heading to a chop shop in the Drag when I ran across Malcolm- you remember Malcolm, right? Malcolm Tanner? We used to skip school and huff his older brother’s jet in middle school. Anyway, I crossed paths with him as he was leaving the Drag and we got talking and he was coming from his shop- he got hooked up with a sponsored workshop a couple years ago- and I told him I was looking for a baiter and COPPER!” She took her first breath since sitting down. “He. Had. A Sonic Boom 1300! And he had to destroy it for the shop since they got a better one and they don’t want the competition to get a hold of it but I told him  _ I’m _ not the competition and he sold it to me for, like, a hundred caps and some Daytripper for old times sake!” She gestured wildly from me to the baiter. “AHHH!”

“Clover, this is great, but shut up!” I laughed quietly, handing it back to her. “Put that thing away before someone sees it.”

“I know, I know!” she said, stuffing it back into her backpack. “But, like, right!?”

Our food came and Clover ordered herself more alcohol than the entire table could drink. Anning politely ordered a cup of oil. The waitress was used to it and told her she’d grab some from their Mr. Handy stock.

“With the faculties of the Sonic Boom 1300, I estimate our chance of injury and death dropping 92.7%,” Anning announced happily. She thanked the waitress for her drink and refilled her flame-thrower fuel tank. “This does not change the chances of finding your formula, Ms. Ward, but we will certainly be in better shape to search the hospital for it!”

Clover hooted and started throwing back shots.

“What, exactly, does this baiter do?” Ms. Ward asked, watching Clover with more than a little apprehension.

“Basically, it’s an overpowered speaker.” I picked at my food between sentences, trying not to chew like a brahmin. “They use them coupled with different audio files of wasteland creatures to draw them to the track. We’ll be drawing them  _ out _ of the hospital.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” she admitted, forcing her gaze from Clover.

“Don’t think they exist outside the Speedway.” I cut myself a piece of steak. “I’ve traveled a bit and never seen anything like it.”

“Worss damn good though,” Clover slurred, eyes trying not to cross.

I pushed her food in front of her and took the remaining alcohol, sipping something strong and fruity after Ms. Ward shook her head and pushed it toward me. “You need to eat something or you’re going to be hanging off the side of the boat the whole way home.”

Anning struck up a conversation with Ms. Ward about the potential life spans of chemical compounds they might find in an ancient hospital. I, for my part, just tried to keep Clover from alcohol poisoning. The evening passed too quickly, and soon everyone was yawning save Anning. Clover stretched and nearly fell backwards out of her chair.

“Alright,” I exclaimed, clamping a hand on her shoulder to keep her up right. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow and I would like you to be conscious for it.”

The sober people around the table stood and Ms. Ward paid for the meal with the money I gave her, handing the lighter pouch back to me after the waitress jingled away.

“I’m renting a room across from the gate,” she said, pointing in its general direction. “I’ll be at your workshop at dawn.” She thanked me for dinner, made a slight bow, and walked into the night.

I threw Clover over my shoulder and dragged her down the stairs, trying to keep her from smacking me in the head while she garbled a song from a passing radio. At the embankment, Owen was leaning against his sleeping sister, eyelids heavy. He perked up at our arrival and Anning handed him two big meals from the Cockpit. Dropping Clover on her ass and into the boat, I ignored her threats of “imma count that shit, Owen,” and handed the kid the rest of my purse. I waved him back when he tried to help me push off, not wanting him to wake him sister.

The tunnel was as dark as it had been when the sun was still out, but the waterway was nearly empty, only a handful of fishers heading out for a midnight catch off the coast. Clover drunkenly sang to them as we parted ways at a crossing in the outskirts, receiving only good hearted chuckles in return.

By the time I was pulling our boat onto the shore of our workshop, she was snoring. Anning carried our haul inside while I hauled Clover into bed. She slurred an “I lusv you sooo much, Comper,” as I tucked her in, tussling her hair on my way out.

Anning was preparing her dock for the night, inputting some commands before she powered down.

“I’m heading to the roof,” I told her, patting the back of her shell. “Don’t worry about locking up, I’ll get to it.”

“Goodnight, Copper.”

“Night, Anning.”

Dip heard me on the way up, flinging himself at me from across the roof.

“Oh-ho, that’s my  _ boy _ ,” I cooed, rubbing my head against his.

For whatever reason, I felt like celebrating. Deciding on a night cap, I pulled my homemade moonshine out of its hiding place and sipped it from my chair. Lights glittered in the dark night from the Speedway, and from a distance, it really was beautiful. From that far, I could forget about the races, about the desperate drivers and their orphans pulling boats to survive.

For now, at least, I had food, water, and a roof beneath me. Good moonshine in my hand, and a faithful companion doing his best to cover my arm in saliva. My friends slept soundly with the promise of a job tomorrow.

Atop my kingdom, listening to the quiet of the night, I never would have expected that was where my life would take me. But I had more than I could have ever hoped for, and I was content with my little slice of the world.


	2. Glowing Ones and Declining Property Values

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Copper, Clover, Anning, and Dip help Ms. Ward find her cure.

It was still dark out when a knock sounded on the door. I hurriedly buckled my harness as I made my way to the front. Dip nearly tripped me on the way there.

“Morning, Ms. Ward. We’re almost ready.”

She stood just inside the doorway, impeccably clean and far too pretty for anyone living in an irradiated wasteland. Still wearing a dress, she had added a pair of close fitting pants beneath and a set of practical boots to her outfit, silky hair still smoothed back into a braided bun.

“I was thinking last night…” She twisted her hands in front of her, picking at the hemline of her dress. “We will be relying on each other very soon. Our lives on the line and in each other’s hands… I think it would be good to be on a first name basis. I… would like you to call me Beverly- or Bee, if you’re comfortable, that is.”

“I can do that,” I said, sheathing knives and fastening tools into the leather straps across my torso. “But only if you promise to call me Copper, and Clover by her name.”

“I can do that,” she repeated with a rare smile.

I returned it and rapped on Clover’s door.

“Let’s go!”

“Can you  _ please _ shut up?” she whispered, looking like death. “I’m dying and it’s your fault for not stopping me last night.”

“Want a Med-x?”

She seriously thought about it for a moment, then shook her head, wincing at the motion and groaning.

“Good, it was an empty offer.”

Ms. Ward- Bee- pulled a vial from her leather messenger bag and handed it to her. “I thought you might regret last night. Drink this and at least a liter of water on the way to the hospital. You should feel much better by the time we get there…”

She hadn’t finished her sentence before Clover threw it back like the shots from the night before, chugging a full bottle of water right before our eyes.

“Clover… What the fuck?”

She threw her head back and let out a piercing scream, shaking her head again, this time like a rabid dog. “Okay, I’m good. Let’s go.” She marched out to the boat, calling for  _ us  _ to hurry up.

I looked at Bee helplessly. She watched after Clover who was cleaning her shotgun in the jon boat, one leg on shore and ready to shove off.

“She’s… colorful,” she finally settled on.

“That’s… one word for it.”

Dip pranced after us, ignoring the boat for the murky water. He disappeared beneath the surface and didn’t reappear, the tell tale rocking of the boat meaning he had secured himself to the bottom. The motion sent Clover reeling back and cursing, falling flat on her ass and accidentally letting off a blast from her gun.

A headache started creeping up on me, but I knew the cause wouldn’t be helped by chems…

Bee looked back at me with concern, but I assured her this was normal, and Clover was fine, really. She took a deep breath and with a final, hesitant look back at me, perched herself on the seat and helped Clover back into her own.

Anning stood beside me for a moment, taking in the scene.

“I have a good feeling about this,” she said, arms rotating in excitement. “I think this is going to be the start of something… big.”

I smiled.

“I hope you’re right.”

I shoved off and jumped in, poling us through the waterways as the sky began to lighten. Anning hovered beside us, thrusters rippling the water beneath. The boat rocked again and Dip surfaced with a two headed fish in his mouth, gulping it down after he was sure I saw his catch. I was surprised he found anything this far inland, and the few people trying their luck along the water looked on in jealousy.

As we converged into the main waterways around the Speedway, Clover hung over the side of the boat to greet the others heading to work for the day. She joked about outstanding tabs at her favorite bar, asked about sick family members, and reminisced on her misspent youth. Her friends and acquaintances avoided looking at me. Bee noticed.

Once we were past the heavier traffic, Dip jumped into the boat and shook off, spraying everyone with polluted water. He ignored our yelps and stared at me with loving, dopey eyes. I couldn’t help myself and rubbed his head, getting a purple tongue all over my arm in return.

“Don’t- don’t reward him when he does shit like that!” Clover spat over the side of the boat, trying to wipe the taste out of her unfortunately opened mouth. “You’re encouraging him!”

“I’m sorry, are you the one who grew up taming wasteland creatures or…?” She was right, I shouldn’t be, but damn if I was going to admit that. “Oh, wait, no… that was me.”

She growled and sat back, rolling her eyes in my direction.

“You raised animals?” Bee asked, scratching Dip under his chin until his leg started thumping.

“No,” Clover snapped before I could answer. “She found the biggest, meanest son of a bitch in a radioactive swamp and said ‘I want to pet that.’ And then she got bit. A lot.”

I laughed and Bee looked back and forth between us, not knowing what to think.

“She’s closer to the truth than she thinks,” I admitted.

“‘Course I am! Wait...”

“But, no, we didn’t exactly raise them. Not like the cattle ranchers in Clan Minotaur, at least.” I eased us around a tight turn, heading away from the Speedway and the traffic it brought. “We don’t breed and eat ‘em. In the swamps, there’s no room and no animals that can be. We hunt, and there’s… some things out there that’ll hunt with us, but you can’t really domesticate them.” I looked down at the gecko staring lovingly back at me. “Not like Dip, at least.”

“I’ve never been to the northern swamps,” Bee admitted, “but I assume by no room you mean no dry land?”

“Yeah, it’s a shithole,” Clover said. “The fact that people live there and don’t immediately die from, like, the air alone, just goes to show what relentless motherfuckers they are.”

“What the fuck do  _ you _ know about the north, Miss. ‘I’ve never left the Speedway’?” I laughed. 

“More than I want too.”

“They don’t let doctors or healers travel into the northern swamps,” Bee said. “No one from Clan Siren, actually.”

“Yeah…,” I rubbed the scars along the bottom of my scalp. “That whole thing about Swampers being ‘disease ridden’? It ain’t exactly wrong.”

“I don’t understand…” Bee’s brows pulled together as she watched me, head tilting a bit to the side.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. “They, uh, don’t really believe in… curing… the sicknesses they’re afflicted with.” I kept my eyes trained on the course ahead.

“Are you…?”

The question hung in the air like a gathering storm. I could feel Bee’s and even Clover’s gaze burning holes into my back. Could’ve kicked myself for starting a conversation I wanted no part of.

“No.”

I hadn’t meant the word to come out so… final, but I was grateful for the effect all the same. The conversation dropped-  _ all _ conversation dropped- and as unpleasant as the silence was, I poled us faster down our route and made good time to the hospital.

“That’s it.” I nodded to the complex in front of us.

Halifax Hospital was a three story building wrapped around a fountain that sat like a centerpiece- the first thing you saw wading up to it. The grounds were raised up, leaving it one of the few structures in the ruins that didn’t have a submerged bottom floor. Made it an obvious target for scrapping. A few hundred years ago, the place might’ve been impressive. Now, though?

Every window on every floor had been blown out- the most likely culprit being the three hundred or so years worth of super hurricanes hitting a building not even two miles from the coast. The fountain, which might have been a statement piece prewar, now only stated how far the place had fallen. The tiered steps leading down to the pool were nearly black with grime, almost a slide instead of stairs. The water sitting stagnant in the pool looked worse than the shit and pollution filled waterway we stood in and had debris and rotting plant life festering in it. Two decorative towers stood watch from behind, destroyed sentries overlooking a forgotten kingdom.

I tried to imagine what it would have looked like back in the day, from the pictures in the databanks on my Pipboy, but to me… It looked like every other ruin in the wasteland. Desolate and dangerous.

“I don’t see any ghouls.” Clover leaned over the side, arching around us to survey the scene. “Probably all inside since it’s day.”

Bee pulled the sniper from her back, peering down the scope to get a better look. “I see a few bodies in the shaded interior. They’re not stirring.”

“Can you see any control panels along the outer walls?” Anning asked, eyes swiveling all around.

“No.”

“Let’s keep looking then.”

I carefully poled us around a wide arch to the left, skimming the edge of a building much taller than the hospital but on the same grounds. It hadn’t been built on the raised area and its first floor was submerged up to chest height.

“There’s one!” Bee whispered. “Right next to an emergency exit and a fire escape. It looks intact.”

“Dip, scout.” I pointed to the building facing the hospital.

He lept into the water with barely a splash, surfacing on the wall of the building and scrambling up the sheer face. It took all of two steps before he was fully camouflaged against the siding. I watched the faint movement, like an undulation in the pattern, scurry to the top and peek over. With no obvious threats in sight, he disappeared over the edge. A few tense, silent minutes later, he reappeared where I had last seen him, now a brilliant green, panting and wagging happily. He made his way along the wall, wanting us to follow.

Bee spotted a few more ghouls sleeping in the shadows of the building as we circled it, but they didn’t hear us approach. Around the back was an intact fire escape. The water raised our boat high enough to reach it, and I tied us to the rail. Holding steady against the building, I was the last one to climb up, Anning staying with the boat.

Every step frayed my ragged nerves. A  _ ping _ from a boot hitting the metal just a little too hard. The  _ creak _ of the ancient bearings holding us up by a thread. All we needed was one mistake, one particularly light-sleeping feral, and we’d have the whole populace converging on us.

At the fourth floor, Clover froze. She was first in line and held her hand to stop us from running into her. I watched her take a slow, silent breath, and unsheath a dagger at her hip. She held it up, swallowed hard, and plunged it into something I couldn’t see. She jerked it back without a sound, wiping something dark on her pants and replacing it in its sheath. As we continued our journey to the roof, I passed where she had been and saw a feral hanging out of the window, a lethal wound at the base of the skull.

I continued up and Clover was waiting for me at the top. She gave me a look like she was waiting for me to say something, but I walked past her and took my place next to Bee, surveying the hospital with her scope. Clover hesitated, then joined us.

“No windows near the door. That’s good. Here’s what we’re gonna do,” I pointed back toward the fountain. “I’m going to climb to the roof of the hospital and drop the baiter in front, where that overlook was at, right before the doors. Anning is going to hack into the hospital’s security system by way of the terminal, and once I give the signal, Clover will set off the baiter. Bee, cover Anning from here in case any ferals sneak up on her. Once I’m sure they’re all out of the hospital, I’ll give another signal, and Anning will send the hurricane shutters down, locking the ferals out. As soon as she does, you two take the boat back to her and I’ll meet you there. Clear?”

“Clear.” Bee readied herself and turned her rifle to the control panel.

“Clover?”

“...Clear.” She was still giving me that look like she was expecting a fight.

“Signal Anning. I’ll rappel off the roof. There’s a couple cars I can use to get through the water…”

Clover pulled me aside, out of earshot of Bee.

“Copper, are you going to do what you have to?” She glared at me, her hand tight on my arm. “If one goes after you, are you going to deal with it, or are you going to put us all in jeopardy?”

God, I was so tired of this argument.

“Do you really think I would put you in danger?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. And you didn’t answer me.”

That was a low blow, but I swallowed my pride and clamped my hand on her shoulder, pulling her in.

“I will do what I have to do. You come first. You  _ all  _ come first.”

She held my gaze for another moment, then nodded and let me go.

I hooked my gear to the corner of the building closest to the hospital’s fire escape and carefully rappelled down. The windows might have been history, but the cement walls were still in relatively good shape. It was a mercy I didn’t have to worry about putting my foot through a wall. At the bottom, I swung myself over the water and tested the nearest car. The hood held my weight so I unhooked and rolled my finger at Clover to pack in the rope and anchor. I tiptoed over two cars, the water muffling their groans of protest, and hopped on to dry land. Anning was making her way over the water, heading in my direction, but I didn’t wait for her.

I looked back at Bee and she gave me a thumbs up without peeling her eyes from the scope. As carefully as the last one, I climbed the fire escape and took stock of the roof. A few AC units and a closed roof access, otherwise it was deserted. With one last look back at Anning to make sure the hack was coming along, I found my way above the front entrance.

The baiter was heavy in my hands as I gauged my shot. I needed it front and center to pull the ferals from the whole building, but not too close so they didn’t have to step foot outside or get clogged at the entrance. Too far, and it would land in the fountain which would smother the sound. I took a deep breath and chucked it.

The baiter turned over and over in the air, landing on the fountain overlook and rolling. I held my breath as it neared the edge, rocking there, and finally settling on the concrete. I exhaled and signaled Clover.

One heartbeat was all I had to feel a sense of satisfaction before my eardrums burst. The baiter let out a piercing wail that I was sure they could hear back at the Speedway, and I clamped my hands over my ears. I screamed in pain but nothing could be heard over the sound coming from below. Wobbling to my feet, I tried to get away from it when movement caught my eye. Through tears, I turned to see a feral scrambling from between two AC units and running frenzied in my direction.

No time to think, no way I could take my hands off my ears for a weapon, I dropped to the ground as it lunged to me. My boots landed squared on its chest and I let the momentum roll me backwards, kicking it over the roof. I didn’t wait to hear the thud- not that I could have over the piercing howl of the baiter- and snapped back to me feet, racing for the fire escape.

At the bottom, with a building between me and the source of the noise, I still couldn’t hear anything but the baiter. Clover and Bee rounded the building on boat as the last of the ferals dropped from the windows in their fury to reach the fountain. Some crawled through the water, legs broken from the fall, others shambled forward, unable to see anything but their goal though the blinding rage.

I felt more than heard the shutters grinding through disuse and sliding down the windows and doors. Bee, Clover, and Dip sprinted to us just as the emergency exit swung open. As I was about to turn, I caught sight of a feral coming round the back of the building. It was behind them and they couldn’t hear me yelling. I dashed forward, pulling my sword from its sheath on my back. Clover and Bee had a heartbeat to look frightened before I brought it down between them, slicing its head in half. I shoved them forward as they looked back in horror, slamming the door behind us.

Inside, I grabbed the controller from Clover and smashed my fist into the off button, the baiter finally ceasing. Probably would have been better if I did land it in the fucking fountain. I dropped to the floor, holding my ringing ears, and rubbed at my temples. Bee held my pounding head in her hands and put a drop of something in each ear. After a minute, I felt back to normal.

“That fucking  _ sucked _ ,” Clover croaked. She was splayed out on the floor of the now pitch black hallway, only visible thanks to Anning using her flashlight attachment. “Next time, I stick with the cheap shit.” She promptly rolled over and threw up.

Switching on my Pipboy’s light, I surveyed the interior. Mostly just so I had something to focus on so I didn’t end up heaving myself. All the metal shutters had securely closed over the windows and doors, letting in no light from outside. The hallway was filled with junk not worth taking by scrappers, and very much looked like ferals had made a nest of the place. Mold, rot, and shit covered every surface, and the smell alone emptied the rest of Clover’s stomach. Bee rubbed something around her nose and then did the same for us. Alcohol covered the stench, and then I could smell nothing at all.

“Thank you for that.”

She nodded and turned on her own light, shining it across the walls. I helped Clover to her feet and looked around myself. Dip started to bioluminesce in the dark because he felt left out.

We knocked on a few closed doors while Anning examined the obliterated elevator. When nothing made a noise within, we poked around inside. It was all the same as the hallway, picked clean and left to the elements. No ferals, though, so the baiter had done its job.

“The entrance is this way, come on.”

I led us carefully to the main entrance where we could still hear ferals scrapping with each other outside. The reception desk had a terminal, but the fact that I could see the back wall through the monitor didn’t bode well for pulling any information from it.

“It looks like the infectious disease ward is on the top floor,” Bee said, her finger hovering over a filthy map hanging on the wall.

We looked back at Anning who shrugged her clawed arms.

“The elevator is no longer functioning.”

“Fabulous,” Clover grunted.

I pointed to the stairs and started climbing, Dip using the wall instead. The second floor had a crumbled outer wall, a feral pinned under the rubble and gnashing its teeth at us. Clover put her hand on her dagger, but I stopped her.

“It’s been there a long time, it’s not getting out anytime soon.”

“Then we should put it out of its misery!” she said, gesturing to its crushed body.

“They don’t feel pain Clover, just leave it be.”

She sucked her teeth and pulled away from me, stomping farther in. Bee caught up with her first.

“She’s right, you know,” she said softly, feeling the tension between us even if she hadn’t heard the prior arguments over the same subject. “I read a study of feral and sentient ghouls, and the degeneration that erodes their higher functioning impacts their pain receptors as well. It can’t feel it.”

“Is she right about letting it live so that it could get free and attack us later, too?” she snapped back.

“Clover. Enough.”

She settled into smoldering silence and Bee backed off.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s nothing,” I said, holding up my hand to stop her from apologizing. “It’s a sore spot for us both.”

Clover scoffed from the next room.

“Let’s see if we can find anything worth salvaging.”

Other than a few more trapped ferals and some no-longer-sterile medical supplies, Halifax had nothing of worth in it. Even the lightbulbs were gone. Clover found a safe in one office that she finally cracked after ten  _ long  _ minutes of refusing help, but all that was inside was some patient files in surprisingly good condition. Bee flipped through them as we continued.

“Anything interesting?” I asked, helping her over some fallen ceiling panels.

“They’re all DNA tests,” she said, brow wrinkling. “Different names but the alleles are similar… I think they all share a relative, maybe a parent…” She opened another file and a keycard and lanyard fell out.

“Looks like Dr. Hastings was a little too fertile for his own good,” I said, swinging it around.

Bee laughed and filed the papers carefully into her bag. The key card helped us get through a few locked doors on the upper levels that nobody had gotten into since the war. Clover filled her whole fucking pack with her favorite Nuka-Cola and prewar snacks from a vending machine in the breakroom. Anning and Bee found some medical textbook holotapes inside their rotting physical counterparts. I was stuffing some sealed chemical agents in my backpack when someone called out.

“Uh, Bee!?”

Clover’s voice was strained and I flew over the wreckage to her side before realizing she wasn’t in danger. Yet.

“I think I found it.”

At the end of the far hall, under a sign that read ‘Infectious Disease Ward’, a set of double doors were spread wide open, letting a sickening green glow shine through. The room beyond was just as putrid as the rest of the hospital, except for the reinforced glass apartment in the center with a slowly growing spider web of cracks spreading from the center. And the only reason I  _ knew _ the glass was reinforced was because it would have otherwise shattered the second the ferals and glowing one within began ramming themselves against it to get at us.

“Oh, no…”

Bee watched in horror before digging out a bottle of Rad-x and handing each human a pill.

“Try to keep it down for at least a minute,” she warned us, eyes reflecting the ominous green light. “Or the effect is far reduced.”

My stomach and geiger counter started backflipping before we made it halfway down the hall. I had to grab a knife handle so hard I’d have bruises the next day just to focus on the pain instead. Clover fared better- there was nothing left in her stomach for the pill to curdle. Bee seemed used to it.

Past the doors, we circled the glass, drawing the ferals away from the growing cracks in the front.

“This looks to be a sealed operating room.” One of Anning’s eyes stayed trained on the ferals shadowing her movements around the glass cage. “Most likely used in the case of a highly infectious patient.”

They gnashed and threw themselves against the barrier, rage and hunger in their deteriorated eyes. Something was wrong- more so than their state of mind.

“Their skin…”

“Yeah, it’s fucking gross.”

“Clover, look at them. It’s desiccated…” It looked like paper, dry and cracked like nothing else did in the humidity of the Glades.

“It’s possible the chamber has been vacuum sealed.” Anning tapped at an intact access panel along the wall. “By the looks of it, maybe even since the great war.”

“Then how did they get in there?” Clover asked between mimicking the faces they were making back at them.

“This panel is, unfortunately, unusable. But I would hazard a guess that they tried to seal themselves inside to protect themselves from the radiation of the bombs falling. It would explain the number of individuals in a room that should contain as few as possible.”

“Guess it didn’t work,” I said.

“I think that’s the terminal you wanted, Bee.” Clover was pointing between the ferals to a computer standing beside the operating table. “Shit.”

There were no other terminals in the room, on our side of the glass or the other. I would have offered to keep searching if it weren’t for the clearly marked sign above the door stating we were right where we needed to be.

“I could search for another intact terminal,” Anning offered. “If there was a relay I might be able to find your cure elsewhere.”

“No.”

I sighed deep and rubbed my face. As soon as I saw that glowing one, I knew what I had to be done. Clover raised her eyebrows at me.

“Glowing ones… they’ll travel farther than normal ferals, for food or something that drew their attention, and they’ll bring hordes with them.” I looked at the glass, a line reaching halfway to the ceiling even though the ferals were occupied in the back. “That’s not going to hold much longer, and if they get out…”

“The Speedway…,” Bee whispered.

“The outskirts,” Clover said, correcting her. “The Speedway has walls, but the outskirts? A horde of ferals and a glowing one to heal them? They’ll be slaughtered by the time someone manages to take it out.”

“There’s a race tonight and if they hear it from here?” I shook my head. “An hour going at that crack and they’ll make it to the Speedway before sunset. We have to take them out. I can’t risk it.”

I ignored the smug satisfaction Clover had plastered all over her face and waved Anning and Bee over.

“This is how this is gonna go down. Clover and I will take the sides of the cage and pull as many as we can. Bee, I want you as far back in that hallway as you can get, laid out and ready to shoot. Anning, I want you covering Bee. If any ferals get close, take them out.” I laid my hand on Bee’s shoulder and looked deep into her eyes. “You’ve got to take out that glowing one as soon as possible, or none of us are making it out of here.” I tapped my forehead. “One shot to break the glass, one shot between the eyes.”

She gave me a definitive nod and marched to the end of the hallway, dragging a table from another room and laying herself out on it. Anning gave me a mock salute with her claw and took her place beside Bee. Dip took his place on the ceiling, glowing brightly to help.

I shared a look with Clover, but before I could turn, she grabbed my arm.

“Hey, Copper, listen. I’m sorry I gave you a hard time earlier.”

“It’s alright, I knew you were a shithead within five minutes of meeting you.”

Her grin was lopsided, teeth charmingly crooked. “I know you hate doing this, but I’m thankful you are. I couldn’t leave here and risk the outskirts.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

She grabbed the back of my head and brought my forehead to hers.

“You’re one relentless motherfucker, you know that?”

“Now you’re just trying to make me blush.”

She barked a laugh. “You still my sister?”

“Only one I fucking got.”

I smacked her on the back of the head as she turned around. We each took a side of the crack, careful not to stand in Bee’s line of fire. I unsheathed my sword, Clover’s shotgun already at her hip.

“Ready!?” I yelled.

“Ready!” three voices echoed.

“Let’s go!”

Clover and I started banging on the sides of the glass and yelling, trying to split the ferals so Bee could get a clear shot. A bang rang out and the front glass shattered. Then another bang as the glowing one turned to look, and the back glass spiderwebbed. There was a heartbeat, and then it screamed and charged.

I rushed after it, five ferals in its wake. It’s head twitched to the side and a bullet took out the one behind it. My blade cut a rotting feral straight through the temple, curving down and through the head of the one beside it. Glowing blood splattered the wall as a bullet shaved through the glowing one’s cheek. I was a hair’s breadth from it- I raised my sword and caught the feral in the mouth that had lunged from behind me. It fell on top of me and dragged me to the ground.

There was nothing I could do as the glowing one lunged for Bee- her last shot rang out and I watched the bullet explode from the back of it’s head. It tumbled to the ground as Anning sliced through the feral behind it with her saw blade.

“Bee!” I shoved the feral off me and ran to her, jumping over bodies on my way. I skidded into the table with the little bit of blood they spilled, but she grabbed my arms before I could hit the floor.

“I’m alright, I’m alright!”

I steadied myself and she slipped off the table. Once we were both sure the other was unharmed, we turned to see the carnage.

A trail of bodies led back to the glass cage, sprawled all over the hallway. In the corner of the room Clover stood with ten ferals laid out around her, managing ten perfect headshots with a goddamn shotgun shell.

“Clover, what the  _ fuck _ !?”

She smiled and shrugged.

“They came after me, I tripped backward, and let off a shot. By the time I stood up it was over.” She jerked her thumb at the operating room. “Y’all coming in or what?”

I shared an incredulous look with Bee and helped her over the bodies and around the shattered glass. Her and Anning took the terminal while Clover kicked her feet around. Other than some dry rotted sheets on the table, and a set of surgical instruments on the cart that were miraculously untarnished, there was nothing else of interest in the room.

Clover cursed and reeled back, falling on her ass. Before I could ask her what was wrong, a quiet ‘oh, dear’ from Anning sunk my heart.

“Maybe I could download the file and try to pull some more from it?” she said compassionately. I could tell from her tone she didn’t expect it to work.

“Bee?”

She looked up at me, heartbroken.

“The file’s corrupted,” she said softly. “The only thing I can read is,” she waved her hands while she read the screen, trying to pronounce something. “Ya-Yavaxilo…xiloprycen. It has the patient’s name, I know it's him, but the ingredients are… gone…”

“Hey, how do you spell that?”

“Spell what?” Bee asked Clover, barely turning her head from the screen to watch her fiddle with something in her hands.

“That thing- Yavaxiloprycen. Is it Y-A-V-,”

I snatched the capped syringe out of her hand.

“Yavaxiloprycen,” I read from the label, handing it to Bee.

It took her a second to double check, but we all knew that was it.

“Clover, where did you find this, and why is it cold?”

She pointed to a small freezer on the floor, chilly air wafting out in an icy mist.

“I kicked the cart, behind it was this thing.”

Bee stared between her and the syringe, rolling it over to get a better look. “I don’t know if this could still be viable, but,” she held up a side filled with a long list of very tiny words. “It has the ingredients on it.”

“Then let’s get it to Cap City,” I said.

By the time we made it back outside, the ferals that had been locked out had found shelter out of the sun and were nowhere to be seen. The racers could already be heard peeling around the track and revving their engines. Lights from the tracks flickered on as darkness fell and we glided beneath them on our way back to the Speedway. Clover hooted at the gate guards, screaming about putting money on Danny and his car making us famous. They waved us through just to get rid of her. Owen hooked our boat again and Clover gave him a handful of caps as she ran off to her bookie.

“We’ll be watching the Prelims from the Cockpit,” I told Bee. “You should come if you have time after sending the package.”

“I will do that,” she answered with a smile.

The announcer boomed through the city as I climbed into the nosebleeds, shouting out racers and placements. I didn’t even make it to the restaurant before they peeled out, watching them disappear into the night over the side of the railing. There were no seats left at the Cockpit, everyone crowded around our table for the one view of the big screen. I said fuck it and stayed on the walkway, having a better view of the screen from there even though I couldn’t have a drink while I’ll watched.

“JUST! FUCKING! MADE IT!” Clover screamed, jumping on my back and howling. “Put ALL my fucking money on Danny placing! Don’t let me down MOTHERFUCKER!” she cheered as his car slipped around another.

Little by little he inched his way up, a car here, a car there. The eyebots and static cameras picked out his face when they focused on the cars making the best progress, and I could tell he knew just how good he was doing.

A sponsored car at the back of the pack threw down grenade bouquets to keep the unsponsored from creeping up on him and losing face. Once the first one hit, the whole screen went white and a distant explosion shook the Speedway. Cheers thundered from below.

“How is he doing,” Bee asked, handing Clover a bag of popcorn as she caught up to us.

“After that shit!? My boy is CATCHING! UP!” Clover howled again as another car lost control and careened off the track.

I held my breath as Danny made it to the sight of the explosion a second later. He braced himself for the wreckage and swerved through the carnage, tires holding out on the jagged road as the racers in front of him blew out and spiraled. He jerked out of the way at the last second as one hit the rail and flipped over.

“HE’S BEHIND THE SPONSORED!” Clover screamed herself raw, practically frothing at the mouth.

They were almost back around to the Speedway again when the lagging sponsored car threw something out the back. The screen zoomed in to see a baiter dropped in the center of the track.

“What is he doing?” I said, more to myself than anyone else. “It’s the first prelim, they’re only doing one lap. He can’t even draw anything to hit if he just drops it out the back…”

By the time the camera panned back, hordes of ferals were converging on the baiter, but not before I saw the countdown timer on it.

“Oh, my god…”

I knew what was going to happen before Danny rounded the corner, but I couldn’t even brace Clover for it. He veered off to the side, knowing he couldn’t plow through that many. As his car pulled up against the baiter horde, I watched in slow, horrific motion as the mini nuke exploded, taking out that entire portion of the track. A wave of bodies hit Danny’s car, protecting him from the worst of the blast, but the force sent his car flying. It tumbled through the air, end over end, until it careened through a bright red rocket and right through the center of our workshop. The rechargeable fusion core imploded before it even hit the ground, leveling everything in the area and incinerating our home, our profession, and our way of life.


	3. Boats are a Girl's Best Friend and Other Practical Life Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their life in ashes, Copper, Clover, and Anning take another job off from Bee.

“Mother. Shitting! BITCHES!” Clover screamed through the outskirts.

I kicked at a twisted hunk of metal and a cloud of ash whipped up. The cleaners had been through early in the morning and already dragged off what remained of Danny and his car, and scrubbed the radiation from the core. Clover hadn’t stopped cursing since the crash.

“All my FUCKING comic books!” she screamed, stomping around in what I estimated to be her bedroom. “I had, like, nine of that sexy bitch in the trenchcoat and they’re GONE! Everything’s GONE!” She let out her 17th primal howl that morning.

I picked up Dip and let him hang off my back so he wouldn’t try to eat the rubble. After the crash the night before, we ran back to the workshop, but couldn’t even get close because of the flames. Bee offered us her room, and since they wouldn’t let me rent one, we had no choice but to take her up on her offer. We snuck out before dawn and… to say Clover wasn’t taking it well might have been a  _ bit _ of an understatement.

“All the work I did fixing up that Nuka-Cola Quantum vending machine, and for WHAT!?” She punched the metal arch that held up the rocket and howled in pain. “Copper, I am going to WALK! Into the GODDAMN! OCEAN!”

“You can’t swim.”

“That’s the FUCKING POINT!”

“You’re also afraid of everything that lives out there and told me to ‘fucking shoot you’ if you ever fell in.”

That made her think, and for the first time since the crash, things were quiet. I walked the perimeter of our little island, looking for something, anything, that was spared from the blast. My garage, lift, and all my tools that I hadn’t brought with me that day were gone. It had taken me years of scrounging and salvaging and saving to buy and fill that little Red Rocket.

And now it was all gone.

“Son of a bitch,” I whispered to myself.

I knew things could’ve been worse. That we could have been in there when it all went to hell, but still. Maybe the locals still hated me, and maybe the jobs were all cheap garbage, but fuck me if it wasn’t better than when I started. All I had to show I’d made something of myself was blowing away in the breeze.

“Oh, god, I… I’m so sorry.”

Bee stepped off the water taxi, covering her mouth in horror. Anning, who had been picking through her room, floated over to her.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to burn you those holodisks, Ms. Ward,” she said sadly.

“No, oh, Anning, no. I- don’t worry about that, please. You all have enough on your plate.”

“Thank you for sharing your room, Bee. I didn’t want you to see this, though.”

“Copper, I…” She looked around helplessly. “If there’s anything I can do…”

I waved away her offer. “It’s all ash. We’ll… just have to rebuild, I guess.”

Clover, lying spread eagle on her back, groaned into the sky.

“We did it once, we’ll do it again.”

She flailed her arms and legs, wailing in defiance.

“Or I’ll do it and you can just lay there.”

She mumbled in approval. I sighed.

Bee laid a sympathetic hand on my arm and steered me over to Clover, sitting us together in the shade of the warped arch. I rested my head against it, the last standing piece of my shop. It creaked from the weight and fell backward, thumping as it hit the ground and kicking up a cloud of ash that sent us coughing and hacking.

“Well…” Bee choked back another cough into her hand. “I sent off the cure last night and had another message waiting for me. I was going to tell you but…” A bolt disintegrated off the arch. “Well…”

“Bee, I am literally  _ begging  _ you to distract me.”

“The message was from a wealthy land baron south of here. Her son has been stricken with a mysterious illness and is unable to travel. I understand she asked for me by name.”

“That’s great, Bee. I mean-,” I stuttered. “It-it’s horrible for the sick guy but, that’s a great opportunity for you.”

“I… thought so too. In the letter she even promised to pay for all my expenses.” She paused and looked at me and Clover meaningfully. “Including travel, such as a boat, or weapons, or  _ guards _ …”

“The Hernandez twins will get you the most bang for your buck,” Clover sighed, now covered in ash herself. “And they’re only missing one and a half limbs between the two.”

“Actually,” Bee said pointedly, “I was wondering if… I could hire all of you.”

Clover shot up right. “How much?”

“She just said you fucking dipshit,” I laughed. “Whatever the cost.”

“We worked well together yesterday. And there are no Clan Traveler caravans heading out that far. I thought… maybe…”

“We accept,” Clover and I said in unison.

“Are you sure?” she asked, but she was smiling. “If you need time to think it over or-.”

“Bee.” I gestured around at the rubble. “What’s there to think about?”

“Then I am very happy to have you.”

“Well,” I stood and brushed the ash off my pants. “No time like the present.” I offered my hand to help Bee up then nudged Clover with my boot. “Come on, enough feeling sorry for yourself.”

She rolled over, groaning, and jumped to her feet. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her to the boat.

“We got a few errands to run.”

On the way back to the Speedway, Clover got her fair share of condolences, and I swear I even saw a few sympathetic glances in my direction. Felt like the fucking prom queen. Another mechanic sidled up against us and shoved some paper into her hands.

“It’s a job offer,” she explained after our paths split. “Cleaning and bartending at the Last Lap for room and board.”

“That was the first place I went for a room since it was right over the gate,” Bee explained. “It was a little expensive for my tastes…”

“Fuck yeah it is. That’s where all the big spenders stay when there’s an important race on the horizon. The week of the 500 is booked a year in advance. That’s actually not a bad offer when you take tips into account…”

I snatched the flier out of her hand and tucked it into my pocket. “We’re leaving today, Clover. I know someone who would get more use out of it.”

At the gate, Hasan waved us through, dropping a bottle of vodka to Clover. She took a huge gulp and threw him a thumbs up as we disappeared into the tunnel.

“Alright, alright, don’t make me take that from you too. I’m going to need your help with this, and you should probably be sober for it.”

“Ugh…”

Owen snatched our boat again, and when we jumped out I handed him the flier.

“Come here, kid.” I knelt down and handed his sister the caps. “We’re overdue for a hurricane and you two can’t be hiding under the rafters in the flood zone when it hits.”

He swallowed hard and nodded, holding back tears when he looked back at Maggie. “We don’t have anywhere else to go,” he said very quietly.

“Now you do.” I pointed to the paper in his hands. “Take this to the Last Lap and tell them you and Maggie will be the best workers they’ve ever seen.”

“Miss. Copper, they won’t take us… We went to every business in the Speedway when Mama died and they turned us away.”

“But now you know a gross, nasty, rotten Swamper, and if they don’t hire you, she's going to come in looking for a job and  _ all _ their super rich customers are going to see her there.”

He cracked a smile.

“But the boats…”

“I can handle that.” Anning held up her claw. “I don’t need anything from the Speedway, and I’ll need to be close to the boat when you two come back with the frame.”

I waved Owen off and he sped out as fast as his little legs could carry him. Bee said she was heading back to her room to collect her things, and after making sure Maggie was good, Clover and I headed for the bank.

“First time out of the ruins of old Daytona,” I mused, knocking into her shoulder. “I give you about a mile down the highway before you start crying for your mother.”

“My mother’ll skin my hide if I come back without a few new bottles to add to her collection. And what the fuck’s a Daytona?”

“The prewar ruins you live in? The one whose name is on damn near every sign you pass? Goddamn Clover, are you even sure you  _ know _ how to read?”

“I get by.”

Laughing, we got in line by the bank, people wrapping around the stands flush with caps from the race. Clover got a few sympathetic pats on the back, and even a couple of the gamblers who did better the night before pushed some caps into her hands.

“I will never understand how you do that,” I said, shaking my head as the last person to give their condolences turned to gossip with someone closer in line to them.

“I’m  _ personable _ , Copper. People  _ like  _ me. They’d probably like you too if you just grew your damn hair out and covered those scars. Hell, I think you’ve got it long enough on top if you just parted it down the middle and…”

She tried to take out my ponytail but I smacked her hand away.

“Tried that once. It’s a bad look and I caught my hair on fire welding.”

“Speaking of Swampers, you gonna see Fern before we head out?”

“Yeah, just wish I had something to help her out with.”

“How’re your headaches?”

“Been alright, but I’m gonna have to pick up some more Med-x if I can’t just pop into town and buy some.”

“Sucks having a brain full of holes, huh?”

“You have no fucking idea.”

At the teller, I leaned against the wall while Clover pulled some caps out for me.

“Name?” the lady behind the glass droned.

“Copper,” Clover answered.

“Last name?” she insisted.

“Just Copper.”

She sighed. “Password?”

“Uh, Gazzer Dazzer.”

“Very good. Are you here to make a deposit?”

“Withdrawal. 200.”

“One moment.”

“Are you sure that’s all we need?” Clover asked, tapping on the counter. “I mean, shit, half that is going to the frame…”

“There're some Unconquered posts along 95, but other than that, most people just trade outside the cities. God, I forget how sheltered you are sometimes.”

“Shut up.”

“Here are your caps,” the teller droned. “Please come again.”

“You know, I don’t think she really meant that,” I said as soon as we were out of earshot.

Clover snorted.

Back on ground level, we avoided the boat specialists who would have charged out the ass for a patch job and headed for a scrap yard Clover knew the owner of.

“Riley! Long time no see!”

Clover clasped the grease covered arm of the woman, smacking her on the back in a friendly greeting. As soon as she let go, Riley took a towel from the fence around her junk-filled yard and started wiping herself off.

“Damn, girl. You’re the last person I expected to see today.” The metal charms she had dangling from her short dreads glinted in the harsh sun. “I saw the crash, I’m so sorry.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. Not the first time all my shit blew up and it won’t be the last. You still got that jon boat frame that gambler from St. Suzy pawned you?”

“Yeah, he limped his broke ass home, though. Why? You planning on packing up and hitting the road?”

“Yeah, actually. We got a job that should help in the financial department, and there ain't much else keeping us here.”

“Well, shit. Good for you. If you want that thing, I should pay you for taking it off my hands. I upgraded every inch of it- reinforced the entire skeleton, enhanced the tires so they’d take more air, even put a fucking retractable handle on it! And I still can’t get a shop to buy it.” She shook her head and spit. “No one buys frames for boats that small.”

She pushed herself off the fence and headed deeper into the labyrinth of metal. She returned a few seconds later pulling what looked like a wagon missing its body.

“I feel bad asking caps for it, but how ‘bout I throw in some cushions for your troubles?”

“Actually, we need a cover too.”

I could have smacked myself for speaking up. How fucking long had I lived in the Speedway? And I still forgot to shut the fuck up sometimes. I was expecting Riley to freeze up, or give Clover some ungodly amount for a price tag. Instead, she wrung her hands and started to say something, then thought better of it.

“I can do that,” she finally settled on.

She and Clover haggled prices and by the time we were packing up to go, I was 150 caps poorer and had a frame, cover, cushions, and gear extension to show for it. If we had gone to a boat specialist, I would’ve paid ten times that for half.

“Thanks again, Riley, you’re a lifesaver.” Clover squeezed her into a hug and handed her the rest of Hasan’s vodka. “I owe you. Big time.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” she laughed.

When I made to follow after Clover, Riley’s hand held my arm. I was so surprised my eyebrows shot up and I spun around. People around the Speedway flinched when I came too close, thinking they’d catch something just by breathing the same air. Other than Clover, most people wouldn’t even hazard a punch in my direction.

“Copper?” My name came out uncertain, and I was fairly sure that was the first time she had ever used it. “I-I really am sorry about what happened. Nobody deserves having their whole life go up in flames- least of all someone who gets shit on by everyone she passes. It ain’t right, how they treat you, and it ain’t right you got nothing left.”

“Thank you,” I finally managed after a moment. “That means more to me than you think.”

She nodded and let go, hand falling limp at her side. I took one step toward Clover who was oblivious and half way back to the lake when I stopped.

“Riley, I know you don’t scrap yourself, but if you’re ever running low, Clover and I cleared a building just south of our station. It’s called White Sand Apartments and there’s a door round back unlocked but closed. I’d rather you benefit from our hard work than some prick working for the upper stands. Thank you. Again.”

She nodded at me and I jogged to catch up to Clover, grabbing the handle of the frame with all our stuff loaded on to it.

“I’ll take that,” I told her. “You go say goodbye to your mother and get a shopping list.”

She groaned and took off.

Back at the lake, Anning was just pulling in another boat as I got close. When the passenger tried to stiff Maggie, her claw squeezed the side and crushed a hole into it. All three eyes met theirs as she innocently said ‘oops’ and brought out her saw blade. They dropped a bag of caps into Maggie's hands.

“She really is quite the salesman,” Bee said, sitting on her pack next to our boat. “Very persuasive.”

I snorted and waved Anning over.

“I’ll take hook duty if you can start welding.”

“Oh, but I am  _ so _ enjoying myself,” she said, one eye still on the customer as they disappeared into the crowds.

“That’s fair, but I don’t have a built in torch so…”

“Very well…”

She still managed to threaten a few customers that tried to take off after seeing my scars, and I thought to myself that boat hooking would have made a good profession for me if I ever gave up scrapping, due mostly to the fact they couldn’t get away from me once I got hold of their boat.

“Ugh,” said Clover, stomping down the stairs. “Well, I told her we were traveling near St. Suzy so she gave me a list of like ten bottles at a hundred caps a pop, and when I told her to get fucked she added five more.”

“Clover,” Bee said, incredulous. “We’re heading south. St. Susanna is in the opposite direction.”

“Oh, good.” She crumpled the paper and threw it into the lake. “So we ready?”

“Almost!” Anning finished tying off the tarps covering the very top of the hoops over the boat and zipped up the netting around the side. “We officially have sun and insect protection!”

I poked at the fabric that covered the back two thirds of the boat and it didn’t immediately rip. I would have liked it better if the covered fabric came down the sides over the netting, but beggars can’t be choosers and it wasn’t me I was worried about. At least Clover and Bee would have some air flow. Anning rearranged some of our gear in the floating carriers attached to the sides, needing to keep weight distribution as even as possible if we were going to stay above water. I slid the handle back into the frame under the bottom and shook the metal cage wrapping around the body. It barely moved. The four wheels were larger than they needed to be, holding more air and carrying more rubber than a craft out size really needed, but I was thankful for that. If a tire went, I would be the one dragging it.

“Well,” I said, finally happy with my inspection. “Everyone have what they need?”

Clover was pulling a Nuka-Cola from a carrier and gave me a thumbs up. After resituating her medical bag on the floor of the boat, Bee double checked the little bit of luggage she had and nodded. Anning gave me a roll call for all the traveling gear I kept in the boat at all times, and after making sure we had enough clean water, I saw Owen running towards us at mach speed. He tackled his sister in a hug and they both fell to the bottom of the boat they were in.

“They gave us the job!” he told her. “We’re going to have our own room and they’ll feed us three times a day! We get new clothes and they said if we’re really nice to the customers they’ll give us caps and we can keep them!” He was jumping up and down and dancing, Maggie getting caught up in it too. “We start tomorrow!”

I rubbed his head and he wrapped me in a hug, burying his face in my stomach.

“Thank you  _ so _ much, Miss. Copper!”

“Anytime, kid. Take care of each other, okay?”

He nodded fervently and I jumped into the front of the boat. With a wave back at them, I used the pole to roll us into the water, crossing my fingers that we would stay afloat.

After a stomach flipping rock, the boat settled and we actually sat a bit higher in the water than we did before. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and started poling us out.

“Hey, uh, why the fuck isn’t the whole boat covered?” Clover asked, lying on the floor and throwing her leg up over the seat. She picked at the net she and Bee were zipped into like she honestly didn’t know why it was there.

I looked back at her from the front and held up the pole.

“How would you like me to move the boat? With my mind?”

“Then why don’t we get a motor like the cars use?”

“Clover.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why don’t we use a motor when we go scrapping?”

“Cause it’s expensive to fuel,” she said, ticking the reasons off on her fingers. “And they fuck up a lot, and they make noise and draw in ferals…”

“And what part of that would make you think they would be good for long distance travel through the wasteland?”

“Ferals only live in ruins.”

“Yeah, and we’re going to be passing plenty. And there’s worse shit out there than ferals.” I rubbed the scars along the bottom of my head without thinking about it. “Believe me.”

I made a pit stop at Ferns and told them to wait in the boat.

Another outskirts resident was out front talking to her, so I hid round the back of her shack to keep from scaring them off. As I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that someone would willingly talk to a Swamper in the Speedway, they thanked her and said their goodbyes. I mirrored their walk around her shack and met Fern on her porch.

“Afternoon, Copper,” she smiled without looking in my direction. “Heard about the shop, I’m so sorry, honey.”

“Eh,” I shrugged. “We weren’t in it. That’s about as much as I could ask for.” I sat on my haunches by her rocking chair. “Didn’t know you were so popular.”

She threw her head back and laughed.

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about me? The Speedway don’t care much for my mama’s iguana pie, but everyone needs some meds now and then. Girl, I got more money than I know what to do with.”

“Well… shit.” I let out a surprised laugh. “Guess it’s just me they got a problem with.”

“Oh, Copper, I been here ten years longer than you been livin’.” Her unseeing eyes stared out over the ruins and her smile fell a little. “They’re not bad people, just… ignorant. I got something they need around here, and they warmed up to me right quick. I’m not saying it’s right, honey, I just… I’m just saying it’s easier to make friends when you’re helpful, that’s all.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I stood and nervously wiped my hands on my pants. “Fern, I don’t want you to think I’m taking too much- it ain’t like that, you know I’m real careful-.”

She pulled a tin out of her pocket and pushed it into my hands. “You stop that. I know well and good what we go through. You think you’re the first of us that suffered from Sanctuary?” She rubbed her leg, eyes looking out but not seeing. “I know, Copper, I know.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat and clasped my hands over hers. “I-,” I cleared my throat. “I’m heading out for a job, Fern, I don’t know when I’ll see you next, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. Or thank you.”

She smiled and pinched my cheek. “You go on, now. And watch for that storm.”

“Goodbye, Fern. Stay safe.”

“You too, Copper.”

I was still mulling over what she said when I reached the boat. Without a word I jumped into the front and started poling us toward 95. Dip rubbed up against my legs, knowing I was out of sorts. The ramp was closer to the Speedway than Halifax Hospital, but there were still some ruins along the way. Ancient structures creaked in the sweltering heat, but nothing moved in the midday sun. For that, I was grateful.

The ramp to the highway was mercifully intact, unlike the first time I blew into town. I poled us right up to dry land and jumped out to pull us up. Shimmying the handle out from under it, Anning and I dragged it up to level land and the highway proper. Raised up out of the flooded ruins, the road was just high enough to keep us out of the water, at least for a little while.

“Do you want us to get out, Copper?” Bee said from the back as I attached my climbing harness to the handle.

“Nah, these wheels make it feel like nothing.”

“Good,” Clover said. “‘Cause I wasn’t gonna.” She got comfortable on the floor and before we got far she was snoring.

It was nice to be out of the city. I was so used to looking at grey, unending concrete and crumbling ruins that to see any kind of life- even the sparse brown scrub that lined the highway- was a welcome respite. For a second I could pretend I was home.

I might have been able to enjoy myself with just the scenery, but I could feel Bee rustling around in the boat, not knowing what to do with herself. Unhooking the clasp on my Pipboy, I handed it back to her.

“You look bored,” I told her with a smile. “I have more to read on there than a library. Actually, the files might have literally  _ been  _ from a library.”

“Oh, thank you.” She was quiet for a bit, switching through all the books. “I never traveled much before coming to the Speedway. I think the monotony was one of the hardest parts.”

“After the heat, and the storms, and the mutant creature attacks…”

She nodded thoughtfully to herself. “I suppose it was somewhat of a blessing to face boredom. I traveled with a large caravan heading to the Ciudad and they had a retinue of Clan Dragon guards. There were some threats, but I was in the middle of the convoy and could barely hear the gunfire.” She was quiet for a bit. “Do you think we’ll face much… opposition on the way?”

“Not while on the highway.” I walked around a pothole in the road and pointed ahead to a trail of wagons in the distance. “They get used enough, and with so many guards and mercenaries that creatures know to stay away. Once we turn into the wilderness, then we’re going to need to be careful.”

“Have you spent much time outside the cities? I hear it’s very dangerous in the small settlements.”

I let out a hearty laugh, I couldn’t help myself. Clover choked a snore and smacked her head into the side of the boat. She cursed in her sleep.

“I guess they really don’t let you near Ocala, do they?”

“No… Is that where you’re from?”

“Yeah… a long time ago.” I sighed. “You can find us anywhere the swamps have taken back the land. We live where other people can’t. Or won’t.”

“I know they’re one of the few places we won’t make settlements. We deemed the risk to life too high.”

I nodded. “They’re not wrong. I lost three cousins before I was a teenager. The swamps- the really,  _ truly  _ wild ones- they’re different than the rest of the wastes. Worse.” My fingers found the handle of my sword. “I left when I was sixteen. Never looked back.” Not that I could have.

“I’m sorry. I’m aware this is a… sensitive subject if you would rather talk about something else?”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Well then… What kinds of creatures will we run across after we turn from the roads?”

“Mirelurks, for one.” I nodded at the everpresent water just past the road. “I mean, they’re everywhere, but they stay away from noise in the cities. Mostly just have to make sure we don’t accidentally smack one with the pole. They taste great, though, so I will definitely be hunting a few on this trip.”

“My mother made the best Mirelurk stew…”

“Then you’re on cooking duty. Trust me, Clover’s idea of cooking is starting a fire and hoping for the best, and I have the unfortunate habit of cooking and eating as fast as I can.” I chuckled when she looked confused. “Tends to happen when you don’t know what’s coming and when.”

“Then I think I can do that.” She smiled, looking out over the marshes. “It seems so calm, and you can see for miles…”

Small currents of river cut between endless, chest-height brush. The sky spread out forever, uninterrupted. Far in the distance, trees rose up again like a wall of vegetation.

“Speaking of Mirelurks, they like to use the marshes for breeding grounds. Bet that whole place is filled with eggs. Otherwise, you won’t find much else out there. The bigger things like to hide where they can’t be seen, in the forests and swamps where the trees cover their movement.” I thought for a moment. “You said we stay on the highway until the first outpost? Yeah, that’ll get pretty nasty. We’ll stock up there and spend the night. Out past the marshes… I mean, we could run into anything if we aren’t paying attention but…”

“Even a Phoenix?”

Her question was innocent, but I still rubbed my scars. They always hurt when I thought of the creature they depicted. I’d take on nearly anything to avoid going toe-to-toe with one again. Almost died the only time I had…

“Hopefully not.”

“I heard they were known for their beauty before the war. It seems incongruous with their current image.”

“Oh, they’re still beautiful. Like I’m sure scientists once thought a mushroom cloud was beautiful. Their feathers look like eyes watching you from the shadows, a flash of color and the scream of a child.” That sound would haunt my nightmares till my dying breath. I pulled the long feather from my ponytail to show her what it looked like when the light hit it, an iridescent rainbow. “Believe me when I say this is as close as you want to get.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Wind whipped up out of nowhere, and thunder peeled. I flipped around to the east to see black clouds rolling in from the sea.

“Shit.”

I pulled the boat off to the side of the road where the marshes started creeping toward the asphalt and yelled for Clover to wake up. Unhooking myself from the handle, I found a couple decent sized bushes to tie ourselves to.

“Anning, that looks like a big one. You might want to power down.”

“I think I will do that. Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“Clover and I can do it, just don’t fall in the mud.”

Rain started falling in sheets, hitting our skin like little knives. Clover lowered the covers so we couldn’t stand up inside but the fabric covered the netting, then tied off another bush. Anning wrapped her claws around a sturdy one and shut herself off. Lightning struck close enough to feel from the ground and I pulled everyone inside the boat and pulled the flap over the front to keep the inside of the boat dry. Rain fell hard enough to pummel the cover, but the waterproof fabric held. Dip whined and curled up in my lap, shaking.

“I’ve never been outside during a storm,” Bee yelled over the sleeting rain and constant peels of thunder. “Are we safe in this?”

“The boat is lower than everything around it, so we should be alright- at least from lightning,” I explained.

Flashes lit the inside of the boat even though darkness had covered the sky like a heavy blanket. Though we had pulled far enough into the marsh for the brush around us to act as a buffer, the wind rocked our boat, threatening to rip the fabric from the cover.

“Settle in, I think we’re gonna be here a while…”


End file.
